Reverent Longing
by So Yun
Summary: [Songfic to numerous artists] Harry’s grief for Sirius is twisting his memories to haunt him and a certain Potions Master. This least likely person to save him from his grief does the unthinkable who is Snape really? [Extremely long oneshot].


**AN/:** Usual disclaimer, Harry Potter. Co etc, not mine. Texts from Order of the Phoenix copied in some parts to fortify memories only. Lyrics belong solely to credited music artists.

**Warning:** Strong language, torture, violence, adult themes.

**Summary: **Songfic to numerous artists Harry's grief for Sirius is twisting his memories to haunt him and a certain Potions Master. This least likely person to save him from his grief does the unthinkable; who is Snape really? Extremely long one-shot.

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_Someone told me not to cry-Wake Up, Arcade Fire._

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**Reverent Longing**

**By So Yun**

**Part one**

**Fear and reverence **

_Memories in abundance haunt us day and night. They never go away; they make us who we are today. We may fear them, but they are never going away…_

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_And I miss you more than I should, than I thought I could-Fear you won't fall, Joshua Radin._

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"Harry? Are you sure?" Hermione's timid, soft voice alerted him out of his haze. He snapped his head back sharply and shook his head, averting his eyes.

"No Mione, its fine. You need to visit your parents and Ron needs to see Charlie," Harry replied gently and continued staring out the fourth corridor window, "Its Christmas, family time…"

Hermione stood beside him as he stared and Ron was just coming up the hall, his trunk in tow.

He smiled weakly at Harry and started saying, "You know mate, I could ask mum, she-"

"Ron, don't bother. I'm fine here, and I've been depriving you both of seeing your families at Christmas for years…" Harry cut in before his best friend could finish. He took a single glance at the other two; both looked back at him sympathetically.

He sighed and continued surveying the snow covered grounds through the mist covered glass. He felt Hermione's gentle hand on his shoulder and he turned around to look at his friend.

"Listen Harry, you are our family,"

"Yeah mate, she knows what she's talking about."

"We're sorry we can't spend Christmas with you. I know its hard Harry, I know when I look in your eyes you're thinking of last years Christmas with Si-"

"_SIRIUS!" Harry yelled. "SIRIUS!"_

_He had reached the floor, his breath coming in searing gasps. Sirius must just be behind the curtain, he, Harry, would pull him back out…_

"_There's nothing you can do, Harry…nothing…he's gone,"_

"I'll see you guys later." Harry said with a misted look in his eyes and he got up and walked away.

"Hermione," Ron chastised gently as he watched his best mate's retreating back. Hermione's expression softened and she too watched, "He has to talk about Sirius some time Ron. It's been nearly six months since it happened and he's not dealing with it,"

Ron nodded, but his head seemed to be somewhere else. He waved his wand and simultaneously hovered both his and Hermione's trunk and they both made their way down to the Great hall. They would leave through the Floo to their houses.

They each took a backward glance at Harry as they did so.

"I'm worried about him Ron."

"So am I."

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_I caught a glimpse, but it's been forgotten  
So here we are again  
I made a vow, to carry you home... home-So here we are, Bloc Party._

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Harry trudged around the corridors for what seemed like hours. This year he decided to quit being so selfish and he had told Ron and Hermione to go home for Christmas this year, without him.

They had been quite hesitant at first and anxious about it. But with a bit of coaxing from Harry they had accepted and were quite excited but overly concerned about leaving Harry. With a few words he had reassured them, but now he felt hollow.

He had felt empty when he was a child, knowing that his parents were dead, but then he came to Hogwarts and made friends. In later years met Remus, then Sirius, they were his family.

But since the Department of Mysteries disaster, after losing Sirius Harry didn't know how to feel anymore. He just felt empty; Sirius used to fill a hole in him, now that hole was black and filled with nothingness.

He just knew he would not be able to bear seeing the Weasley's all together for Christmas, or Hermione with her parents. He knew it would tear him apart, so to cocoon himself he was going to spend Christmas alone.

Ron and Hermione had delayed leaving as long as they could do unnoticed. They waited up until the day of Christmas Eve, but Harry had shooed them off to pack. He really appreciated what they were doing, so much that it hurt.

Harry noticed that he was the only Gryffindor staying at Hogwarts for Christmas. He guessed that now everyone knew that Voldemort was back they didn't take time for granted. They wanted to spend as much time with their families as possible.

"_Hey Harry, be right back I just remembered I've got to go tell Dad something,"_

"_Ok Ron, I'll wait for you."_

_Harry watched as his friend walked off towards the platform they had just come off. He stared out the train window and watched as his best friend walked up to his father._

_The train window was open at the top and Harry could just hear the words, "…just want you to know I love you, Dad."_

_Mr Weasley gently smiled and rested a hand on Ron's shoulder, "I love you too, Son."_

_Harry looked away, tears stinging his eyes as he blinked them away quickly. After what had happened last year in the Department of Mysteries, his friends had been taking more notice and care of their own families._

_Harry felt like he had proved how easily to lose them; they wouldn't take them as for granted as they did before._

Harry finally made his way to the Fat Lady's portrait. He uttered the password to a drunken Violet and Fat Lady then trudged up the stairs. Once up there he dumped himself unceremoniously onto his four poster bed and drew the curtains, not that it mattered.

He didn't know how long he stairs at the ceiling of his bed for. He found himself idly fingering his pillow, his mind completely blank. He couldn't afford to bring up memories of Sirius, it was too painful. He rarely looked at his photo album that Hagrid had gotten him; it reminded him of many things, too many things.

Before he knew it, he fell into a dull slumber and woke tangled in his duvet a couple of hours later.

He blearily straightened his glasses and wiped grit from his eyes. He got up and knelt on his mattress for a minute to get his bearing before ripping open his curtains. Scarce sunlight assaulted his bleary eyes and he stumbled out of his bed and used a spell to iron the worst of the crinkles from his school shirt and managed his way to the Great Hall.

He was surprised at least to see only one table remaining with only teachers sitting on it. Were the remaining students meant to go to the kitchens?

Just as he were debating where he was meant to eat, Dumbledore strode in a motioned to one of the chairs.

"Come Harry and eat with us. Christmas Eve after all," Harry frowned before pushing his glasses up his nose further and sitting down, "You, it would seem, are the only student present for the Christmas holiday. But we shall be staying for the most part, so tuck in!"

The headmaster sat on his left and on his right sat Professor Flitwick. Besides him was Trelawney and on Dumbledore's left was Professor Snape. Harry stared at his plate for what he thought was a moment until a casual drawl interrupted him, "Quite interesting isn't it? A plate,"

Harry looked up sharply to find everyone staring at him worriedly, all except save for Professor Snape who was staring at him with a snide look. Harry blinked a few times and chose to ignore the Potion master's comment. Everyone else looked away and Harry heaped his plate with food but only played with it using his fork.

He was so consumed in it that he was startled when a withered hand gently lifted the fork out his hand, "Harry," Dumbledore's voice penetrated through his empty mind.

He looked up and blushed, mumbling, "Sorry." but he did not pick his fork up again, or even try to eat. He wasn't hungry, even if his stomach felt shallow and empty. His chest felt constricted and he nearly found it hard to breathe deeply.

"_On the contrary…the fact that you can feel pain like this is your greatest strength."_

He ended up leaning forward and burying his head in his arms, he heard quiet voices around him but he could barely distinguish them; "Severus, do you have a calming potion? Mr Potter seems in a bit of distress-"

"Headmaster he is clearly being difficult for attention-"

"My dear boy! Your aura says you are weary, perhaps-"

"He was quite fine in charms the other day, perhaps Minerva knows-"

"-Fine Albus, I shall retrieve one from my stores for him."

Harry dimly heard noises of someone getting up and leaving the hall. Harry could not bring his head up; he found the scene he was sitting at too hard to bear.

The scene was nothing like it had been at Grimmauld Place; there it had been cheerful and warm. But now at Hogwarts it just seemed so cold and uncomfortable. But none the less it reminded Harry of that Christmas.

He remembered how Sirius's bark like laughter rang the headquarters kitchen as someone told a joyful joke. Harry had fleeting reminders of when Sirius gave him a one armed hug as he left to go back to Hogwarts, _"Look after yourself, Harry."_

Little did his Godfather know that his sentiment to his Godson would become reality. Harry would have to look after himself now, he couldn't rely on the Weasley's or Remus now; he couldn't bear to make himself a burden.

He was awoken from his thoughts when someone was nudging his elbow.

"Here you are Harry, drink this." Harry raised his head and accepted the Goblet and downed it. Immediately he felt a cool feeling cover him and his insides, his mind felt neutral.

"_I would never leave you alone Harry, never. I will always be with you where ever you go. I shall follow."  
_

"Thanks" He said and ran his fingers through his hair. Everyone was eating but they were also trying not to look at him. He found Dumbledore watching him and he turned to face him, "Are you alright my Boy? I know how very much it hurts without Si-"

"I've got to go thankyou Professors, I'm really tired." Harry interrupted and in a flurry of movement exited the hall. Once outside he leaned against the doors and let out the breath he was holding, then he ran all the way up to the Dormitories.

"He is clearly not holding up as I feared."

"What should we do Albus?"

"That Filius, I do not know."

"Perhaps, if I may say Headmaster, Lupin would be more suited to handle this,"

"The boy's aura is dull; I predict his gloominess may end in his death!"

"Perhaps, Severus, you are right as usual."

"Will you bring him in to fix the boy's 'depression'?"

"I think I will, but I do not think it is as easy as 'fixing' it. But Remus may do as he may; he is also affected by Sirius's death,"

"Shall I owl him for you Albus?"

"Yes Severus, you may."

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_The voices taunt me and take me all the way down.  
They took my body and beat it to the ground-Hearing voices tonight, Kisschasy._

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The next morning Harry got out of bed very early, he had slept none that night. Every time he closed his eyelids, Sirius would be staring at him angrily. Whenever he opened his eyes in the dark, Sirius would be standing over him, staring angrily.

Often his Godfather's hovering form would whisper words of malice that Harry could only just decipher and kept them to himself. It shook him to the bone and he was so afraid, he was more afraid of night time then he had ever been in his life. He couldn't bear to sleep, or even close his eyes in the dark anymore.

He got changed slowly, still trying to keep his eyes open. He skipped going to breakfast because again, he did not feel like it. He pushed open the heavy oak doors and followed the grounds paths until he found himself by the silvery surface of the lake.

On the misted blue morning it reflected the clouded sun and surroundings as clear as a crystal. He found a beautiful tree just by the waters edge, half rooted in the snow covered grass and sandy shores of the lake. He closed his eyes for a moment testing whether he would see his Godfather under his closed lids; he did not.

So he rested against the trunk of the tree and hugged his knees to himself for little warmth. On mornings like these it was still frosty with snow covering nearly every inch of Hogwarts Grounds. For once since his Godfather's death at his hands, he felt at peace.

_Harry stared at the bathroom mirror, the dorm was empty, everyone having gone to the feast. He had just finished the conversation with Luna moments ago. It appalled him about how mean some people could be._

_He knew tears slipped out his eyes like silver pearls but he cared not. He opened his mouth, his warm breath ghosting his parted lips, "Do you think Remus will hate me? Hate me for killing you, Sirius?"_

_Harry's reflection warped into Sirius's face and Harry felt even angrier tears drip from his wide eyes. He clenched them tightly, causing the drops to dribble down his face._

_Sirius's image just stared at him and he knew the answer. Then his Godfather was gone._

He wrapped his robe around himself tightly then let his head fall back and fell into a blissful, nightmare free slumber.

He was suddenly ripped away from his dreams as he felt someone nudging his foot with something. He cracked one eye open to find a towering shadow looming over him, he tried to stop himself as he gasped.

He felt that bone chilling cold fear settle over his body, but he was snapped from his reverie by a voice, "Are you not sleeping Mr Potter?"

Harry stilled his body as he recognised Snape's voice, even if it had an edge of conversational tone to it. He looked up and managed to see Snape's pallid face staring down at him, a different kind of emotion swirling in the older man's obsidian depths.

He didn't know how to answer. If he told Snape he wasn't sleeping then the man would probably go report to Dumbledore who would watch over his constantly. But if he lied to the man and Snape found out, he didn't want to find out the consequences. He shook his head and found himself fiddling with the hem of his cloak.

He didn't dare look up. He knew that if he looked up he would remember every time he failed Occlumency which could have prevented in Harry falling for the trap and simultaneously getting Sirius killed.

Harry knew in his mind that Snape knew this; he was surprised that the man had no biting comments about his failure, or glory at his enemy's death. But indeed he did not, but somehow Harry knew Dumbledore had spoken to him about it.

He stopped himself short for he would have indeed delved into his maelstrom of guilt from the disaster named his fifth year. Snape still stood there, but no longer towering, just waiting.

Harry timidly looked up and dropped his fingers from his robe hem, "Sir?"

Snape looked in near disbelief at the boy, the way the teen could possess his words in such innocence and in such a child-like way. He stared at the boy, a teen but still nearly a child of fifteen years old, the child who he hated or wished to.

"_Why do I hate you, you ask?!" Snape hissed his skin pale and stark under the moonlight. The figure under the tree shifted and answered, "W-why Severus, I-I-"_

"_Enough!" I wish for nothing more to come out of your mouth…you-you," The young teenage Snape stumbled over his words until the one of most convenience came out, "-You filthy Mudblood!"_

_The person gasped and Severus watched as they ran away, crying._

"_I hate you because I cannot have you…" He whispered to himself, then turned, robes billowing and left the courtyard._

He looked quite frail and fragile wrapped up like a bug in a rug against the tree, the little sunlight filtering through the clouds to reflect on the teen's pale skin. It illuminated the dark rings that starkly stood out under the boy's childish, once bright green eyes.

They now looked scarcely bright, just empty and dull orbs that stared back. His fingers he used to catch the snitch looked like they could snap so easily and they fiddled no longer, they just lay like a stark contrast against his black robe on his knees.

His hair, so much like his father's was messy and unruly as ever because Harry never bothered to brush it. His thin wired glasses framed his eyes, while his hair framed his pale heart shaped face.

Now during puberty his jaw line stood out and broad shoulders stood underneath his shirt. His face had matured since he had come to Hogwarts, now it looked weary and older then it should, though it still retained youth that made him quite handsome.

"Follow me Mr Potter," Snape replied with no malice and swept his robes behind him and strode back across the grounds. Harry followed behind, stumbling behind in awkwardness from his short nap. His Potion teacher led him back inside the castle until they came to a stop at Snape's Private stores.

"I do not think I need to clarify the consequences of stealing from here," Snape said harshly, fully knowing what Potter's nimble fingers could get to now he had shown it to the boy. Harry just nodded and accepted the glass vial containing a purple like liquid carefully as Snape handed it to him.

"A sip every second night, more then that and you can become addicted. I would not like to be the one treating you for withdrawal and you will not enjoy it, so mark my words Mr Potter." Harry nodded again and mumbled thanks loud enough for Snape to hear before leaving the dungeons.

Behind him Snape eyed the teen carefully, scrutinizing the way Harry's shoulders were slumped and his demeanour seemed shallowed and oppressed.

Dumbledore had better hurry to fix his golden boy, or he shall fall too far to reach.

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_When the weight of all the world's gone wrong.  
It's gone wrong again.  
Gone fucking wrong-Weight of the world, Blue October._

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That night looked at the vial under the moonlight by his bed, and then he swiped it took a small sip. He stared out the window for a second; he had a yearning to be around people. He wished Hermione and Ron would write, but of course they'd be busy with their families.

That was his last thought as he climbed deep under his sheets and duvet, burying himself under them in a cocoon of warmth. He fell into a restful sleep, nothing disturbed him that night.

By morning he was well rested and was only disturbed from his light slumber by pecking at his window. He pulled back his cocoon and sprang out of bed, nearly sprinting to the window. Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed a large pile of presents but chose to ignore them.

He was greeted by Errol and an unfamiliar barn owl that he supposed Hermione borrowed or got for Christmas.

He opened Ron's letter first which had a small bundle attached to it.

_Hey Harry,_

_Romania is awesome! I mean I've never seen anything like it! Oh by the way, Merry Christmas! I got a brand new broom from Charlie! Lightning Striker 99, the latest model! I hope you like your present by the way, it was very carefully picked._

_Mione wrote to me the other day, she's enjoying visiting her Grandparents in Kent, she also said she picked out an owl to use for a present. You'll probably be getting her letter now._

_Fred and George's finances are booming! They showed up at the camp yesterday bearing presents, and man! Were they awesome! _

_I'm just about to go on a flight with Ginny, Charlie, Bill and Dad. I hope you have a good Christmas, see you soon mate! Also Mum hopes your going okay._

_Yours,_

_Ron_

Harry beamed at Ron's letter and hurried to open the parcel. Out of the bright wrapping paper fell a dark blue, gold embossed book. Harry hurried to open it, but as soon as he saw the first page he let is slip from his hands. Once on the ground it stopped on one page, then it continued to flick across other pages until it closed face down.

Harry could feel his chest tightening and instantly the blood out of his face drained. Every picture in the book, or album contained a photo of Sirius. Most were from last years Christmas at Grimmauld Place. Harry held his breath and closed his eyes, not daring to look at the book again.

As he was averting his gaze he noticed a note that had fluttered from the book.

_We hope you like this Harry. Hermione and I spent a lot of time scouring for other pictures but we only found the negatives of Tonks magical film from her camera. Please Harry, look at it; you can't just forget him because he's dead._

_Love,_

_Ron and Hermione._

Harry quickly picked up the book from the floor, stuffed the note in a page without looking and shoved it in his trunk. He breathed in and out deeply for a moment before turning and kicking the trunk as hard as he could. It only resulted in an aching and throbbing, sore toe which he didn't bother to nurse.

He then turned to the barn owl remaining that just sat calmly watching him.

"It's easy for you," Harry spat at it before snatching the letter from its leg.

"Be off!" He nearly shouted and chased it out the window. He really couldn't bear the feelings carousing through him right now. He was grateful to his friends and all, but the wound was just too raw and all the album did was rip it right open again.

He sat down on his bed hunched and unsealed Hermione's letter, reading it carefully.

_Dear Harry,_

_I hope you are doing okay in Hogwarts by yourself. I also hope you took heed of _

_Ronald and I's words in the note inside your present. _

_Anyway, Kent is beautiful and I love seeing my grandparents again. I've showed them a few charms and spells, they are absolutely delighted. My parents are also quite proud._

_Don't you think Lana is just beautiful? She's the barn owl who delivered this letter; I picked her out in the holidays. I'm so excited to be able to have one now, though I must admit she's not as beautiful as Hedwig._

_I got some new charms book for Christmas. I love them! They're so informative and useful; I can't wait to show you and Ronald. Professor Flitwick will be impressed!_

_Well Harry, I hope you're having a good Christmas so far. I'll see you when holidays finish._

_Love,_

_Hermione._

Harry merely nodded at the letter before putting it aside with Ron's letter. He then sat on the bed for a couple of moments, attempting to salvage anything happy from his mind before dressing and making his way to the Great Hall.

He had obviously slept in because only Dumbledore and Snape remained. He sat beside Dumbledore; Snape sat on the Headmaster's other side. As he heaped his plate, which he planned not to eat he tried to cheerily say, "Merry Christmas." But it came out more forced then he intended.

Dumbledore smiled at him, his eyes twinkling and replied without needing to be forced, "Merry Christmas, I trust you got everything you wanted?"

Harry was about to answer but Snape cut in rudely and sarcastically, "Of course he did, he's the Golden boy. He has everything he wants."

"Severus." Dumbledore chastised and looked at the Potions master right in the eye. Snape desisted and huffed continuing to drink his tea. Dumbledore turned back to Harry and motioned for him to speak.

"I only had a look at Ron and Hermione's present honestly. I thought I should come down here first." Harry replied trying to sound happy, but was failing miserably. To be honest he had noticed the huge pile of presents at the end of his bed, but in his melancholy mood he did not feel like opening them.

He used his spoon to stir his tea round, his eyes following the swirl of liquid turning into a trepid miniature whirl pool. Again he became consumed in it and spilt it when he started at Snape's voice.

"If you are not going to eat, stop wasting air and go do something else." He sounded quite annoyed and when Harry looked up he found the man's intense gaze on him. Dumbledore threw a frowning warning look at Snape but said nothing.

Harry nodded wearily, then got up and left. Practically, the man was right.

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_I take everything from the inside  
And throw it all away-From the inside, Linkin Park._

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He wandered outside for he did not feel like braving Snape's intense gaze or Dumbledore's disapproving one. He made his way to the quidditch pitch to find it glazed over with snow. He amused himself for awhile by trudging footprints through it making shapes and letters. In the end he messed up everything he had done when he realized he was unconsciously drawing a large dog.

He walked over to the stands and stood under the bleachers and stomped the snow off. He shoved his hands in his pocket and recoiled when his finger was sliced on something sharp in his pocket.

When he pulled his hands out his index finger was bleeding freely, a deep cut just below the first finger joint. He frowned then carefully rummaged around in his pocket with his other hand until it came upon the offending object.

"_Look after yourself, Harry."_

He screamed in frustration as he saw his first glimpse of the object before throwing it down into the snow. He threw up his hands in a sign to the sky, not caring that he was splattering blood droplets everywhere.

He then turned up to the sky and bellowed, "IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT?! YOU WANT ME TO NEVER EVER FORGET YOU?! YOU WANT ME TO SEE YOU EVERYWHERE?!! SO I CAN FUCKING BLAME MYSELF ALL THE TIME, KNOWING I'M THE REASON YOU'RE DEAD?!!"

He then fell to his knees, now crying freely. His yells echoing around the quidditch pitch scarcely. He leaned on his hands and he didn't care that wet snow was seeping through his robes and pants.

He was heaving badly now, so hard that he could nearly not breath. His tears were raining heavily and he pounded the snow with his hand, now bloodied from his finger.

"What do you want Sirius? I can't do anything now…you're dead. I killed you, I killed you…" He sobbed to himself, he watched as his hot gushing tears dripping from his eyes and chin onto the eyes, leaving little melted patches in the snow.

He was so absorbed in it that he only just felt warm arms wrapping themselves round his shoulders through his numbness.

"Harry? Come on, its okay," Remus's voice penetrated his hazed mind and he turned his face round to look at the man.

He said nothing as he stared, he said nothing as the man helped him off the cold ground and healed his finger. He said nothing as the man picked up the knife and pocketed it, carefully walking Harry back inside.

"Remus?" His broken whisper saddened Remus and he just pulled the young man tighter.

"Its okay Harry, I'm here now."

Harry nodded and unconsciously leaned closer, sucking up the warmth and comfort the man provided. Remus had his own tears silently dripping off his face and he turned his head and kissed the top of Harry's head gently.

He knew in the back of his mind that Harry was in a bad way. No one had tried to talk to him about his Godfather's death since the blow up in Dumbledore's office. He cursed himself for not trying sooner.

But leaving Harry alone without friends or anyone else at Hogwarts must have been the last straw.

Remus had arrived hastily at Severus's letter, he flooed in as soon as he could with his luggage ready to stay as long as needed. At Dumbledore's heeding he had been told that Harry was not dealing with Sirius's death at all.

The man had already received worried letter from Ron and Hermione asking for advice before Christmas. He had also helped them with Harry's present.

After he had arrived Severus was standing at the fireplace awaiting him; all the man said was, very softly, "He's out on the quidditch pitch." Then he left with his billowing robes leaving Remus to sort it out.

So he had followed Snape's instructions and found Harry screaming and swearing up at the sky. His finger bleeding heavily, a discarded knife given to Harry from Sirius nearly buried in the white snow.

This had alerted Remus and it scared him to see Harry like that. He loved Harry as if he were the son he never had. Unofficially he was now Harry's Godfather, but Remus loved him deeper then that.

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_And the tears come streaming down your face  
When you lose something you can't replace  
When you love someone but it goes to waste  
could it be worse?_

Lights will guide you home  
and ignite your bones  
And I will try to fix you-Fix You, Coldplay.

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Remus put Harry to sleep in his own guest quarters near the dungeons. The boy fell asleep straight away, tired from his outburst. Remus wrapped his finger up just in case before sitting by the teen in a chair by the fire and started reading.

He was interrupted an hour later by Dumbledore and Snape entering the room.

"How is he?" Dumbledore asked softly with a pained expression. He had encountered Remus with Harry coming inside; Remus had quietly told him what happened while Harry seemed out of it.

Remus put his book down and ran a hand across his face, "I don't know Headmaster. I've never seen him so broken; he loved Sirius so…so much…"

Dumbledore nodded sadly and turned to Snape who was intently watching the boy.

"I think he went into shock. Knowing Mr Potter he pent up all his emotions and caused him to become delusional in a sense, seeing everything and anything that reminded him of Black." Snape observed and relayed to the other two men.

Remus and Dumbledore nodded at this agreeing. As they turned to leave Dumbledore said, "Look after him Remus, he really needs someone right now."

Remus nodded and stared at Harry for a moment lovingly before resuming his reading.

While Harry slept Remus retrieved Harry's trunk from the Gryffindor Dormitories and set up camp for the teen. He couldn't bear to leave him up their in the tower by himself for the remainder of the holidays.

When Harry woke up a few hours later, he fumbled for his glasses but recoiled when they were handed to him.

"It's alright Harry, its Remus remember," The voice attached to the hand said and when his vision cleared Harry turned to the older man.

He smiled weakly and looked down, mumbling, "I'm sorry about before…I-I-,"

Remus lifted his chin up and stared right into the twin emerald depths and interrupted, "Harry it doesn't matter okay? You're allowed to vent your feelings like that, there's nothing wrong with it."

Harry nodded and fiddled with the duvet edge, averting his gaze. Remus smiled at him and leaned forward, pulling the teen into his embrace. Harry stiffened in reaction and his body was wrought until Remus pulled away hesitantly.

"Harry, Sirius would have wanted you to be happy…"

"_Hey kiddo? One day I'll have built a gigantic quidditch pitch for you! You can fly around all day long on your Firebolt. One of these days, I'm going to catch Peter…"_

Harry just merely leant over and buried his face in his hands; he was attempting to ignore the man. Remus let a gentle hand fall on Harry's back before standing up and giving the teen some time alone.

Harry ran his hands deftly over his face and stood up abruptly, he needed to get out of there. He grabbed his now dry robe and slipped it on; he stepped outside Remus's quarters agilely and shut the door quietly behind him.

He noted that all the corridors were very empty; Remus must have gone for a walk or to visit one of the professors. He appreciated the way that the man did not push him or force him; he was just there for Harry.

He wandered the corridors until he was outside again. He didn't know why but he sensed a feeling that drew him there. He knew that the outdoors calmed him, but also had forces of nature that reminded him of Sirius. Whether it was by coincident or chance, he did not know. Maybe it was even purposeful.

He walked around the quidditch pitch until he came to the magical boundaries by the mountainside. Keeping unwanted things out, he leant against the barrier, feeling Hogwart's comforting magic. He closed his eyes for what seemed what a moment and was so shocked by a voice that he slipped against the invisibly barrier and landed on his backside.

"Mr Potter? Are you attempting to escape or something? Very 'worthy' of you in my opinion." Snape voice again for the second time interrupted him. This time snide and sarcasm inhabited his tone clearly.

Harry cracked open an eye and watched the man with clear disdain; he was not in the mood to deal with the man's attitude towards him. He leaned on his hands and was starting to stand up when Snape lent a pale, long fingered hand out to him. Harry begrudgingly accepted it after staring at it for a moment.

"Thanks." He managed to mumble as he stood, fiddling with the belt on his jeans. The older man stood there awkwardly, now with no biting comments and asked quite civilly, "If you are bored and in need of something to do, perhaps you would like to better your potion skills,"

Harry looked up sharply, he was, to say the least utterly shocked that the man who had loathed him for eternity was offering him, help?

Harry frowned for a moment then let a blank look settle on his face, he stared up at his teacher and blandly asked, "Do you really mean that Professor?"

Snape bored him with his stare and nodded subtly, murmuring, "Why not, Potter." He seemed even surprised at himself but also at ease with it.

Harry grinned a little before leading the way back to the castle; maybe Snape was such a git after all.

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Harry continued to make his way down to the potions classroom every time he had an urging or longing that resided around anything Sirius related. Or just pure boredom, he always found himself inside the classroom working silently with Snape.

He found himself even more at piece then he did outside, the elder man's presence, comforted him in a way. At first Harry had been horrified by the thought and retreated back to Remus, but then it got too much and he felt the tightening of his chest. He was soon scuttling back, inside he was morbidly ashamed but he found he couldn't bring himself to care.

Snape only gave him biting comments when in a bad mood, which was now rarely ever. Harry found himself respecting his professor more and more everyday as the man in black aided him and he soon found himself proficient in the art of potion making.

The man never let his pride take a fall by giving Harry compliments, but a nod or a respecting gaze from Snape's obsidian depths was enough. He also came to find irony in the man's sadistic comments; they turned out to be quite funny if you thought long and hard about them.

"Carefully Mr Potter, you do know that if you a root even just one centimetre too long or short it can affect a potion just as badly as a huge blunder?" Snape commented helpfully as Harry wrongly cut the ingredient.

Harry nodded his head in thanks and continued cutting even more carefully then before under his professor's watchful.

"Perfect Mr Potter, I expect that and much more when school goes back." Snape commented before stirring his cauldron beside him but gave Harry a pointed look as if to say, "I'm pleased with your work today, you may go".

Once he was out the door, Harry smiled inwardly and outwardly at himself. For some reason he was proud to be earning respect from the man who used to think so little of him.

One day Harry was in there cutting some roots of a rare plant for the man, he could tell Snape was in a bad mood so he decided to be as quiet as he could. He could barely hear his own breaths and he kept his eyes down.

Snape had an angry; not furious look pasted on his pallid face as he huffed through textbooks, randomly stirring his silver cauldron. Every now and then he would clutch his forearm and grimace in pain as he ignored it.

Harry looked up for a moment to survey the man carefully; he wondered whether he needed a pain relieving potion… Harry gasped with pain as the cutting knife slit the skin on his wrist where it had rested unconsciously as he had been watching Snape. A trail of blood oozed out and he just stared at it.

He cringed when a dark shadow loomed over him and in a cold, menacing voice Snape said as he grasped Harry's wrist in a vice grip, "Attempting suicide now? Well not on my watch! Get out of my site! To the infirmary or to bleed to death in the Gryffindor tower for Minerva to find you! I do not care!"

"You are just as selfish and careless as your godamned bastard of a father was!"

The man's rage was like that of last year, the man's face was whiter than chalk and he trembled dangerously, spittle flying. He towered over Harry menacingly and Harry felt himself shaking like a leaf free in the wind, rattling almost.

"_So," said Snape, gripping Harry's arm so tightly Harry's hand was starting to feel numb. "So…been enjoying yourself, Potter?"_

"_N-no," said Harry, trying to free his arm._

_It was scary; Snape's lip was shaking, his face was white, his teeth were bared._

'_Amusing man, your father, wasn't he?" said Snape, shaking Harry so hard his glasses slipped down his nose._

"_I-didn't-"_

_Snape threw Harry from him with all his might. Harry fell hard onto the dungeon floor._

"It-it was an accident Sir!" He managed to blurt out in a rush of words; Snape merely narrowed his eyes, grabbed Harry by his collar and shoved him out the door.

Harry winced at the harsh words, clutching his wrist he stumbled out of the classroom as the door slammed behind him. He felt a cold feeling settle in the pit of his stomach, so Snape didn't care…not that it had been intentional to cut his wrist of course though.

Not that Harry ever was stupid enough to think that this man cared for him simply because he offered to tutor him…

He stared at the shut door with a glazed look, just when he thought the man was starting to respect him; he was so wrong. So Harry stumbled to the outside to find the comfort of Hogwarts's magical boundaries to comfort him. He didn't care that he forgot his robe and his pants were getting wet from sledging through the snow.

Once he found one he leant again it, unconscious of the blood dripping down his hand and off his fingertips morbidly. He sighed deeply, in his unconscious mind like state, he had come to a stupid idea that Snape cared for him in the tiniest inkling. He didn't know why he thought that, but he found the man's presence so comforting compared to Remus's.

He was so preoccupied in thinking that he only just heard a loud screech wail across the grounds; Harry slipped to the ground covering his ears and the invisible barrier shook, warping into nothingness.

It was then that Harry realized the severity of the situation; whatever was screeching must be a dark creature to have broken down the wards. He scrambled to his feet, clutching his wrist and started to run back across the quidditch pitch. He slipped many times on the slippery snow and ice that formed on the grass underneath.

He looked up as he did so, he could see something large, very large with a huge wingspan of black circling above. That's when he felt cold dread plunge deep within him. The creature, whatever it was, was like the epitome of evil. The creatures horrid shrieks wailing across the grounds and sky, causing anyone who heard it to cover their ears. It was obviously seeking something, or rather someone out.

Harry sprinted as fast as his awkwardly, now long legs could carry him. Just as he was a third of the way across the quidditch pitch, the creature swooped and Harry yelled, or rather half screamed, he found it hard to keep his mind sane.

His mind wandered into memories long forgotten till now.

_It was past midnight, the full moon shone down through Harry bedroom window at Grimmauld Place. _

_Harry's thoughts were on Remus, he felt sympathetic and he hoped the man's transformation was not too painful tonight._

_He jumped and turned around when he heard the click of his door open._

"_Harry?" Sirius soft voice reverberated around the room and Harry replied, "Yes?"_

_Sirius stepped forward, the moonlight illuminating his pale skin and his grey eyes stood out starkly. Harry smiled at his godfather and his godfather smiled back. He sat on the end of Harry's bed and gestured for the teen to do so too._

_Once Harry had sat down, the two males faced each other, Sirius was the first to speak, "Harry, I just want you to know that I love you,"_

_Harry's emerald orbs widened at the words and he stared off away, not sure how to reply. This was the first time anybody had said this to him apart from his friends. _

_Sirius smiled and put his hand gently on the teen's shoulder, startling him._

"_I love you" He repeated again and stared right into his Godson's eyes under the moonlight. They looked gentle, yet fiery at the same time. Harry's mouth was agape and he managed a breathless reply, "I love you too Sirius."_

_That's all it took before Sirius pulled him into a fierce hug, "I'll never leave you Harry, not if I have to."_

_Harry nodded through his own tears and leaned into the embrace as his godfather stroked his hair._

Sharp, long talons dug into the flesh of his shoulders, chest and back as it swooped forth claiming him. He struggled against the creature's strong hold but only made a sound that resembled a pitiful moan as the talons dug deeper. Blood gushed from the cuts in torrents and as the creature flew upwards into the sky, Harry lost consciousness.

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_I believe in you and me  
I'm coming to find you  
If it takes me all night  
Wrong until you make it  
And I won't forget you  
At least I'll try  
And run, and run tonight  
Everything will be alright-Everything will be alright, The Killers._

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Snape rubbed his temples forcefully; he seemed to have driven out the pain. Voldemort was summoning others, but had specifically told Snape not to come. So he had to put up with it which put him in a terrible mood.

_If I summon the inner circle Severus, Do not come or death be on your head"_

"_Yes my Lord"_

He had been barely thinking up right when he was tutoring Harry, and he realized with bitter accusation of how he had treated to poor boy. He realized after carefully analysing what had happening in his head a few times that the boy had indeed accidentally cut himself with the ingredient knife.

Snape felt a heavy weight of guilt plague him as he remembered how he had just thrown the young man out, even if he had been on such good behaviour knowing Snape had been in an awful mood.

He sighed and decided to go find the boy and salvage enough dignity to apologize. Severus Snape was not one to apologize unless needed be; this was one of the times though in his reckoning. He had somehow managed to earn the respect of the boy and now, he feared he had lost it.

He made his way up from the dungeons and went out the front oak doors, he had an inkling that Harry would be outside again. He rounded the school and made his way to the snow quidditch pitch, and was half way across when he felt the wards collapse completely.

Then he heard it, the dreaded shrieking of what he feared most to hear in familiarity on Hogwarts grounds. Then he saw him; Harry running full pelt across the snow covered grass, slipping as he went. Then in dread Snape looked up to see the creature, his worst fear of seeing in this vicinity; swooping on Harry Potter and stealing him away.

He watched in awe struck horror as the enormous black winged creature spirited the boy away right from his grasp. He continued watching stiffly as the creature started its way up the snow covered mountain that loomed in the background of Hogwarts.

He had to get Harry back; he was going to follow them and save the teen, no matter what it cost.

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_Will you have it?  
Say something.  
Breathe it in.  
You've taken everything.  
I've tried and tried to tell you this-I apologize, Roses are Red._

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Harry awoke with a sudden collision with the ice cold ground after the creature dropped him and landed beside him. He rolled a few times in the snow, then lay there shivering as the creature, or bird, whatever it was stalker over to him.

It was standing over him, looming menacingly until it was suddenly morphing into…Lucius Malfoy.

Harry gasped and attempted to move his painful body sluggishly away. But Lucius merely sneered and continued bearing down on him.

"You're-you're an animagus!" Harry managed to blurt as he continued to scramble back. Lucius raised his aristocratic eye brow and said smoothly, "Why of course Mr Potter, why wouldn't I be, when I could catch you so easily, my prey."

Harry gulped and felt the blood draining out his face; he had better escape and do it quick. He had an inkling of what Lucius may have up his sleeve and none of them looked or sounded very nice.

Lucius smirked before reaching forward swiftly before Harry could move and grasping Harry's collar in a suffocating choke.

"Come now Mister Potter. Surely you aren't scared?" Harry did not answer, Lucius just laughed quietly, almost to himself. "Come now, we have a long way to go." The elder man looked away from Harry's face and scaled the mountain tops high above through his grey eyes.

Harry eyes widened; Lucius planned to take him to the top of the mountains? The blonde haired man must have read his mind because he just smirked at the mountains and dragged Harry along, wet snow soaking through his jeans, Harry shivered in just his t-shirt.

"Tut, tut Potter. No cloak?"

Harry fiercely scowled and attempted to pull out of the man's grasp. He still had rivulets of dry blood clinging to his skin and clothes. He squirmed but to no avail, Lucius had a vice grip on him; he did not intend for the golden boy to ever get back.

After walking for an hour in the freezing heights of the looming mountain cliff, Harry gave up with a strangled sob. He wrenched himself a few steps away from the man and screamed, "What the hell is wrong with you? You're taking me to Voldemort!! You mosewell send me off to slaughter!! Just please! Let me go Malfoy! I can't do this! I can't…" He broke down, his emotions in such a whirlwind that he lost control.

Harry slid down to his knees in the wet snow and cried furious tears. He thought he could be strong and defiant, but Sirius's death had dwindled him down to next to nothing.

Lucius merely strode up to him, peered down and then to Harry's shock, backhanded him fiercely.

"Get up! Get up!" He shouted with a whip like voice and Harry could do nothing more than to obey. He trudged to his feet and felt his tears turn into icicles on his chin; he wiped them off sagely.

"_Get up! Get up! You foolish boy!" said Vernon Dursley cracked his son's smelting stick over the sleeping boy hunched over the hydrangea bushes. He was furious; the boy hadn't done his work but a small glimmer of worry passes through his miniscule eyes._

_He knew something weird had happened in the freak's world. Like a death or something he couldn't quite grasp and daren't ask. But the boy was physically ill looking; no wonder he couldn't do his chores properly._

_Harry eyes opened slowly then closed swiftly as the sunlight pierced them. But he reopened them quickly as his uncle's towering form hovered in the corner of his eye._

_He picked himself up from the now squashed hydrangea bush and looked up at his uncle through his fringe. He shuffled his feet and managed to murmur, "Sorry Uncle," before using his hand to shade the sun._

"_Not good enough Potter! Now get back to work!" His Uncle said in a low angry, whisper as so not to disturb the neighbours. He poked his nephew roughly twice more in the stomach before going back into the cool interior of his house._

Then again Malfoy pinched his gloved fingers into Harry's upper arm in a vice grip, Harry winced and fell into a trance and just followed the man. He knew, there was going to be no escape.

He shook off Lucius's hand and hissed, "Don't fucking touch me, and I'll walk myself."

Lucius shook his hand of but kept his wand trained on Harry, "As you wish, Potter."

Harry still felt utterly and entirely defeated, completely hopeless.

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_Someone told me not to cry-Wake up, Arcade Fire._

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**Part Two**

**Longing and Assumption**

_You cannot take what is not yours; if they aren't they're gone forever, no longer your's, theirs or anyone's. Take a chance, or stand afar. _

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_I climbed a mountain, I turned around  
And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills  
The landslide brought it down-Landslide, Smashing Pumpkins._

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Snape pulled his thick, woollen cloak tighter around his shoulders. He had informed Dumbledore and the Order of what he had seen. Meanwhile the Headmaster was forming the meeting, but Snape thought differently.

He had been trekking for almost an hour now, scaling the snow covered mountainside. He could scarcely make out the footsteps left by Lucius and the teen. Every now and then his worry for the student grew as he came across splattered blood on the pathway.

He had no doubt that Lucius was taking Potter to the Dark Lord's lair at the top of the mountain where no one could apparate, only walk or fly to. Snape felt soft snow falling and he curses, he bet that Lucius wasn't going to try and do anything to make the boy comfortable. Last time the potions master had seen the teen, he wore loose jeans and a t-shirt.

He looked up towards where he knew Potter and Lucius would be; he could see a blizzard forming. He sighed and bowed his head, continuing to his destination, almost like a beacon.

Various thoughts were forming; when ever he looked into Potter's eyes they some what reminded him of Lily. She had been his friend in times of difficulty.

He felt it as his duty to rescue her only son; he felt it so strongly that he almost felt the bond pulling him towards the boy.

"_Severus?"_

_Sixteen year old Severus Snape whipped around and stared harshly at the owner of the timid voice. The slender, willow like figure of Lily Evans stood there fiddling nimbly with a stray lock of vibrant red hair._

_She bit her lip nervously and searched the other teen's obsidian eyes for any sign of emotion. She found none but a tiny flicker of compassion that passed briefly._

"_Severus?" She asked again, she knew she would not receive a reply but she tried anyway. Severus looked at something behind her then stared away over in a distance across the shimmering lake._

_Lily closed her eyes and stepped back and whispered, "I'm sorry." Before turning and leaving, the dark swallowing her up even to her last strand of fiery hair._

"_I can't take this fucking shit anymore." The teen whispered to himself and threw a rock fiercely into the shimmering water._

Severus closed his eyes gently against the wispy snow flakes floating down past his face. The mountain was beginning to incline and become steeper. His long legs took large strides to climb the face and he had no need to scramble.

In a short amount of time he had a small glimmer that perhaps he was getting closer, but he was starting to get exhausted; not that he'd show it.

So the tall man continued, he was not going to stop; his student had been taken and it was HIS duty to retrieve them. Let no harm come to them or hell would break loose.

For some part, Snape felt a need to get Potter back because he dearly wished to apologise to the boy. In fact, he felt in his part, guilty, for he was the one who had gotten to angry at the innocent teen and thrown him out.

If he hadn't done that then Harry would have been happily making potions and Lucius wouldn't have been able to get him.

He had feared ever since the day Lucius had shown their master and the inner circle his animagus form, to see it at Hogwarts.

"_My Lord, I wish to show you something of…interest," Lucius's smooth voice echoed around the cavern. The Dark Lord nodded for the blonde man to step forward, "Show me Lucius, show me what is so…interesting."_

_The tall, fair haired man stepped inwards, he closed his eyes gently and a split second later the black towering creature stood in his place._

_Once the creature opened its eyes, they were the cold grey of Lucius's. The creature reeked of evil, its wingspan huge. If Lucius flapped his wings he would surely knock out the surrounding inner circle and the Dark Lord himself._

_The Dark Lord himself looked beyond pleased and Lucius knew this, he was beaming at himself most probably under his mask. There was silence for a moment until the Dark Lord spoke, "This is the perfect way to get what we want…"_

_Everyone murmured in agreement, Snape felt a sense of dread. He wasn't sure what the Dark lord wanted, but he had an idea…_

Snape had been walking for almost an hour now, his legs were numb but he did not care. The footsteps he was following were getting even fainter, but he pretty much knew they were certainly headed for Voldemort's stronghold.

He hadn't seen anymore blood since but he was glad of that, he also knew that Potter would be in most possibly bad shape when and if he found him. He found his mind wandering but he drove his fingers into his temple; he had to stay focused!

He didn't know how behind the Order were, but he was hoping that they weren't that far behind. He knew that he could easily infiltrate the stronghold and perhaps rescue Harry. But if he was caught, he would indefinitely need backup.

He looked up, the sun was setting and a silhouette of the mountain was dauntingly towering. He knew that by now Potter would have be at Voldemort's feet, begging for mercy or even death. Snape clenched his eyes tightly; he never wished death or torture upon the boy; no matter how irritating he had been in the past.

Now and the future was what really mattered.

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_Get back,  
You'll never see daylight;  
If I'm not strong it just might-Bitter Song, Butterfly Boucher._

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Harry opened his eyes; he felt silver paths of frozen ice on his cheeks where his tears had rolled. His back felt numb from being dragged along the ground when he had passed out. An hour ago exhaustion had kicked in and his head was trying to swim above the blackness after being repeatedly beaten by the older man.

He had stumbled countless times and whimpered when a particularly strong breath of freezing air whipped past. But Lucius was indeed a cruel, harsh man and he would tolerate nothing.

He tried to look up as he was dragged along but failed; only catching a small glimpse of an invisible force wrapped around his ankles which pulled him along behind Lucius.

It was dark and he could only presume that they were some what closer to Voldemort's stronghold. He felt something foreign and stone cold in the bottom of his stomach. He knew what it was though, it was fear.

He knew he should have been prepared, he knew after last year that he was the only one who could kill Voldemort. But he felt physically sick, he had been so self consumed that he hadn't even started training.

He stifled a groan as his ribs ached him, he vaguely remembered Lucius kicking them a few times. He blinked wearily and tried to pound down the frustration building in him. Then abruptly he turned his head and vomited bile and blood, again stifling his coughing.

He felt the warm liquid seep out and some resided on his chin and lips, he wished he could wipe it away. His thoughts wandered, he wondered what Ron and Hermione were doing…

His thoughts also wondered to the pile of presents he had opened solemnly after the feast he had rushed. Hagrid had gotten him some new fur gloves to wear in the cold. He sorely wished had had them right now, as well as the beautiful dark emerald, thick cloak Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall had gotten him.

He longed to wear the nice red jumper from Mrs Weasley right then and there. Or to, as a childish desire have the plush soft toy dog Remus had bought him. He knew it reminded him of Sirius, but that's why he wanted it.

When he had opened it later that day, he had thrown it onto his bed with a scoff and a fight against the overwhelming desire to cry. Later that night had found it and placed it on his nightstand, but had spent hours just staring at it. It looked so much like Padfoot that it wasn't funny.

Some nights he wished it was and he would hold onto and pet it, in the morning he would feel idiotic and place it back on his night stand. What fifteen year old boys had plush toys?

Harry was so consumed in his thinking that he only just realized that they had stopped. The invisible bonds disappeared but Lucius's vice grip returned and he found himself being dragged to his feet.

Suddenly Harry felt more scared then he had ever been in his life. A looming black mouth of a cave towered over them. It was indescribably evil; Harry could sense it from just mere feet away.

The snow in contrast with the black depth of the cave was frightening. Harry didn't know what to do, so he tried something foolishly hopeless.

He wrenched his arm out of Lucius's arm, and started running. He kept slipping on wet rocks and the snow, he ducked curses but kept running. There was no way he was ready to face Voldemort.

"Crucio!" Harry heard the unforgivable come out of Malfoy's mouth and sped up, but the curse hit him square in the back. Before he knew it he was writhing as a thousand burning knives plunged deep into his skin. He felt the curse be cancelled but he tingled in a hell load of pain for sometime after.

"_Someone told me not to cry." _

He was dragged to his feet viciously by his hair, Harry felt himself being tugged towards the entrance. This time he was too blinded and drugged by pain to try anything.

"Try that again and you will be tortured for weeks before the Dark Lord kills you," The Aristocratic man hissed right into the teen's ear. Harry's eyes rolled back into his head before he could give a smart response to piss the man off.

"But then again, you're going to be tortured for weeks anyway before you die," Lucius added with a smirk and eyed the now unconscious boy.

"Say your prayers Potter."

"_Fuck you!"_

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Snape pounded his white knuckled fist against the frozen rock roughly. The boy had been adamantly foolish to attempt to escape from Malfoy. He was crouched behind some snow covered rocks; he had just watched the brutal scene and could not wait to chastise the boy for his idiocy.

But he could understand, when he had first seen the Dark Lord's new lair, it awakened a fear inside him, an indescribable fear. He wouldn't have tried to run though; torture was worse then death in his eyes.

He sat there for awhile, dearly hoping that the boy wasn't being tortured too severely while he thought. He had to come up with a reasonable excuse for showing up to the stronghold even though he was told not to come.

He could wait for the Order to follow on after, but it had taken him a fair few hours to get up the steep mountainside. He didn't want to image how long it would take for a whole group of them too; but they were probably flying.

Snape could not think of a good enough excuse to appease the Dark Lord so he knew, he knew his only choice was to sneak in and out. He knew, if it had to be, of an easy but painful sort of escape route.

"_Get out of my life! I don't want you in it! Don't you understand that? For fuck's sake Lily!" He was breathless and his face flushed. She had silver pearls running down her creamy coloured cheeks._

_He felt his heart breaking in two but he continued, "What's wrong with you? I want you out! Out of my life! FOREVER!"_

_She said nothing, he said nothing. There was silence. To his horror he felt something wet splash onto his chin and he failed to wipe it off, his eyes were on her._

_Her eyes were hooded, but he could see from where he stood that they embodied a kind of sadness he could not decipher. She turned, her curtain of red hair swaying, she left._

"_I'm sorry," He whispered behind her, he knew she hadn't or wouldn't have heard him. He did not want her too either._

"_I'm so sorry."_

Snape closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath; he climbed out of his hiding spot and made his way to the cave. It swallowed him whole, like a predator eating its prey.

He had to do this, duty or not.

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Harry woke up; he felt oddly calm, but underlying that he felt a cold sense of dread and a sweating, terrifying fear. He opened his eyes and found himself on the dirty tile floor of a huge room. Little moonlight flittered in through cracks in the walls and roof.

He could see the bottom of a throne; he daren't look up any further, because he could see the hem of a majestic looking robe. He knew exactly who it belonged to.

"Mr Potter is awake everyone," His voice broke the silence and Harry became aware of sounds of shuffling and many more hems of cloaks in a circle around him. He swallowed and tried to move his body.

Tattered laughing around him stilled him, he could not move and they all knew it. He clenched his eyes and put on a false sense of bravado, trying to hide how plaintively scared he really was.

"Ah, Tom. You got me," His adolescent voice echoed the circle and fierce whispering reverberated around him. He could see the majestic looking hem sway as Voldemort stood from his throne.

"How dare you, Mudblood!" Voldemort spat smoothly and walked closer to Harry; towering over him. He circled the teen like a predator on his prey, idly twiddling his wand between his fingers.

"Oh poor Voldie, he's insulted by his _real _name!" Harry spat back, looking up, directly into the man's eyes. Voldemort's face twisted in disgust and he leaned down and backhanded Harry.

"Shut your insolent little mouth,"

"_Potter! Shut up right now! You have no right to speak to Dudley like that, with your freakish words!"_

"_I'm not a freak."_

"_You damn well are, now get out! Don't come back in till its midnight you ungrateful whelp!"_

"You remind me of Snape," Harry said smirking, he knew that Snape would have killed him if he ever heard him say that.

Voldemort laughed, his Deatheaters laughing also until he stopped. He stopped down and grabbed Harry's jaw extremely hard with his skeleton like fingers, "Shut your mouth Potter!" Voldemort hissed again and pressed his fingers in so hard that Harry knew they would bruise.

"Make me," Harry said forcefully not wanting his voice to waver; he steeled his eyes and continued to stare at Voldemort.

The older man let go roughly and his leg lashed out and swiftly kicked Harry in the side. The teen stifled a groan and ignored the laughter around him.

"Was that meant to hurt?" He said insolently and temptingly innocently as he could manage. This merely infuriated Voldemort more, "Do as you will my loyal followers."

With that, he swept out the room.

"Got to him did I?" Harry taunted to the rest of the Deatheaters left in the room.

"How dare you?!!" Most bellowed and descended in on the helpless boy. Many just beat him like a common muggle would, but other sophisticated ones cursed him with curses he had never heard of before. Harry saw no more after that.

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_But now that I'm older,  
my heart's colder,  
and I can see that it's a lie-Wake Up, Arcade Fire._

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"_Come on Lily, it will be fun!" The hazel eyed teen pulled the hesitant girl along behind him. Her vibrant hair swaying but her green eyes screwed in confusion._

"_I don't know James…it looks sort of dangerous,"_

_James stopped and turned around, his eyes softening, "Oh alright Lils, I guess it's more of a place to take the Marauders to,"_

_Lily smiled in reassurance, pecking him on the cheek she said quietly, "You really have grown up James,"_

"_Have I?" James said in mock astonishment, this just made the sixteen year old laugh. They continued to hold hands tenderly and walked away from the looming forest._

_Unbeknownst to them a lank, black haired teen sat behind a tree a few meters away. His face was scrunched in jealously and anger, then an undecipherable sadness. _

The entrance to the cave was so looming Severus held back the chills that sped up his spine. He had to find the Potter boy and he had to do it fast. Stealth was his only ally as well as the darkness.

If any other Deatheaters came upon him, he was indefinitely dead or to be tortured by the lord himself. He knew that the lair had cells just about everywhere scattered, so he barely had a hope in hell of finding the boy by himself.

Maybe he should have waited for the Order to show up. They could storm the place but then again that would mean that the Deatheaters would have had time to take the boy and spirit him away with them.

He knew by now that it was definite that the boy was being or had been tortured. He knew that the Dark Lords true supporters would have glory and pleasure in torturing the innocent fifteen year old boy.

He himself found it sickening, when it was his turn he would pretend to miss and other false excuses for not having to really hurt the victim.

The actual lair had been happened upon by some Deatheaters taking refuge high up in the mountains after a disaster raid in Hogsmeade. They had come across the huge caverns in a blizzard and had been heard talking about it by the Dark Lord himself.

He had forgotten their blunder of a raid and rewarded them for finding such a good hideout/stronghold/lair.

Snape found it disconcerting. He had only been summoned their twice to make potions and listen on in meetings but that was about it. He knew the old stronghold like the back of his hand. This one was completely foreign.

He could feel a crackle of darkness in the air, evil. Something that frightened him, even the other Deatheaters felt it too but wished not to be conceived as weak.

He slipped down various hallways; he was intent on looking the massive throne room before the cells. He felt his stomach was on fire, once near the door he heard a familiar voice, "Got him did I?"

He managed to move out of the way just as the door banged open and the Dark Lord himself stormed out. Snape managed to camouflage himself into the dark corner by the door; the snake like man never saw him.

He breathed out a sigh of relief and sauntered near the doorway so he was out of sight and so he could just see what was going on. He couldn't see properly yet, but from inside the circle of cloaks he could hear muffled sounds.

He stepped inside the door, the Deatheaters seemed so consumed in what they were doing that they didn't even notice him.

He stifled an agonised gasp and swallowed down the bile that had arisen in his throat. It burned as he forced it back down.

Agonised, low, back in the throat moans, too deeply sucked into the blackness of unconsciousness to register anything but the pain. The boy was in his side, most of his t-shirt in shreds, his jeans as well. His face no longer looked handsome under the exterior of blooming bruises and cuts.

His bare back was layered upon layers of welts and sheer congregated blood. Bellatrix was cackling evilly as she dug a knife deeper into Harry's forearm. Lucius was cursing an invisible whip to do the harm on the boy's back.

Crabbe and Goyle were standing sentry, but kicked the boy's face and body whenever they could.

Snape turned away and let his weight fall against the wall; there was no way he could single handed escape with Potter. He closed his eyes; he knew deep down that he could do nothing to prevent this horrific torture from happening. It would bee foolhardy, so he just waited.

That's all he could do.

"_Bloody fucking world…I'm sorry Potter…"_

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_There is a wall that runs right through me  
Just like the city, I will never be joined-Kreuzberg, Bloc Party._

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The movement inside had died down, the boy was silent. In a flurry of laughter and cackling the Deatheaters left the room. Harry was alone.

He looked so small, so fragile in the gigantic room, his clothes in tatters and rags. He swam in a pool of his own blood and he had no voice. It had been stolen from him as they tortured him for hours.

He wept silent tears and fine tremors of shattered nerves ran through his body. He wished to hug himself for some comfort, but his skin was so taunt and littered with wounds that he could not.

His very bones ached and he felt encased in a cocoon numbing pain.

He blinked, one, two, three times before he felt the lead like weight of them. He let them shut like a dooms door. It was black.

He opened them again, little light pierced his irises. He moved his head, he felt like he was drowning. He felt waves of dizziness swallowing him, nearly whole. He couldn't breath; the room tilted and whirled, almost like a Carousel.

Harry shifted again, the boat called his brain capsized into the waves of blackness. He wished had a life jacket of life line, he felt himself being pulled further and further down.

He didn't temp to struggle, his head was going under…………and then someone pulled him back up!

In Harry's mind he thought it was a lifeline, but in reality it was actually Snape putting a hand on his shoulder. But anyway or form, it brought Harry back.

The boy's eyes fluttered open a few times, Snape could make out the blood shot, though still vividly green eyes past the blood and minced skin. He sensed recognition in the green depths; he mirrored that in his own as well as a small look of empathy.

The boy's eyes were nonetheless, _dead_. They bore no emotion and he was just barely responsive. Snape was scared, terrified. He was scared of and for this boy, a child none the less. It was frightening the way the boy's haunted look pierced his soul.

He did not know whether Potter would ever survive from this.

"I've got you Potter," He said softly and waved his wand over the teen's body.

"I'm sorry but I can't heal you, the Dark Lord would sense that little amount of magic too easily,"

Harry nodded dimly, he had been saved but he could still feel the uttermost tug of that black sea swirling around to drag him back down.

"_I've got you Harry…I've got you," Sirius pulled the teen's small frame close. Harry body was wracked with sobs as he inched closer to his Godfather, feeling half pathetic at needing to be held like this and somewhat comforted by his godfather's presence._

_He sobbed half heartedly then pulled away and scrubbed away the silver paths with his fists._

"_I'm sorry…"_

_Sirius pulled the teen closer again and ruffled his raven hair, "No, don't apologize Harry. Never apologise unless it's your own, entire fault,"_

_Harry was silent for a moment before mumbling into Sirius's chest, "But it is…"_

Harry knew in the back of his mind that Sirius was dead and Sirius had never comforted him like that. But he liked to imagine what it would be like, and sometimes that's all that held him together.

He felt comforted by his Professor's presence for an odd reason, the disaster before being completely melted away in silent forgiveness. Maybe it was just the fact that he knew Snape would save him. He did not know entirely.

He felt Snape's gentle hands guiding him carefully, after what seemed a few moments but in reality, forever he was leaning on the man's tall frame.

"Let's get out of here,"

Harry nodded and tried to stumble forwards, the older man helped him the entire way. They stood in front of a porthole tucked away in the shadows of darkness, Snape eyed Harry's reaction wearily, "I cannot vouch to wait for the Order to storm in here, and we must get you from here before they kill you or me,"

Harry swallowed thickly, his throat dry. His only response was to move forward. Snape's thin lips were set in a grim line as he opened the lid with his foot. Harry couldn't only see blackness but he could feel a cold chill arising from the hole.

He could also hear rushing water, like rapids, fast and extremely loud.

Snape stared down at his charge and said quietly, "Are you ready?"

Harry nodded and they both manoeuvred forward and pitched down into the gushing sounds and blackness.

Harry's first instance was to gasp at the cold water.

"_Holy shit!"_

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_My wish is for you  
An end to your sorrow  
And if it comes true  
You'll wake up tomorrow  
Alone-Gentle Hum, The Finn Brothers._

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Coldness was all he registered. Throbbing pain and a numbness of aching bones and opened wounds.

He felt grit from the torrents of water all over him; sunlight nearly blinded him even through his closed eyelids. He felt weaker then had ever been before. He tried to move his limbs but couldn't, they felt like lead. He wondered where Professor Snape had gone, he felt himself slipping back into the black waves of despair.

He heard someone speaking nearby but he didn't have enough will to stay awake. He was soon swallowed by the waves in his mind.

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Most of the Order sauntered around by the stream; Hogwarts was a few hundred meters away. Two stretchers were being loaded while most solemnly watched on.

Severus Snape was sitting up on one of the stretchers swatting away the medi-witched, continuing to insist, and "I'm fine! I wasn't the one who was beaten and tortured by Deatheaters. I just took a stiff fall down a flowing ravine of cold water! Nothing more!"

He kept looking over at his student who laid limply rugged up with thick blankets but still looked pained. He had managed to keep hold of Potter during the long but fast fall down the mountain river rapids that lead to the base.

The water was absolutely freezing due to it was just merely melted ice and snow from the top of the mountain. Potter had passed out just after he had ghastedly uttered that most fitting language after they had jumped.

He attempted to keep the teenager's head above the water, but it was very futile. He had a bet that Harry had freezing water in his lungs, if untreated most likely to rot them away.

But that was only a small problem among others; the boy had lost lots of blood from where Bellatrix had had her fun knifing him. The numerous welts on his back would most likely scar, some of them would be too deep to simply conceal.

The bruising was very vast and it would have to heal normally. By the looks Harry had a broken arm that had probably juttered on a rock down the river. He had several broken ribs from being kicked as well. Concussion was quite serious because now no spells or anyone could wake the boy up.

Snape haughtily sighed as several Order members clustered around him and Potter as they began to hover them both back to Hogwarts. Snape rolled his eyes and fingered a small cut on his arm; he was, however interrupted when Dumbledore rested a wrinkled hand on his shoulder, "Thankyou Severus, a job so well done. I do not know how we will thankyou for saving Harry,"

"_Thankyou James, for your honesty and for saving a peer," Dumbledore was stern yet he was honestly appreciative to the teen. He turned to the other teen, black haired, pale, obsidian eyes and covered in cuts and scratches._

"_Severus my boy, I am so glad you are fine. Perhaps you would like to say something to Mr Potter here?" Damn twinkle in his eyes._

_The teen stood up, his curtain of greasy hair swaying. He stood before the other hazel eyed teen and said in a loud voice, gritting his teeth, "Thankyou, Potter for saving my life."_

_James Potter nodded and wearily then eyed his best friend sitting silently in the corner. His blue eyes looking away, avoiding everyone's gaze until Dumbledore turned upon him, "Now Sirius…"_

Dumbledore had said it in a saddened but joyful voice. There was no apparent twinkle in the man's eyes and Snape watched as he eyed Harry's form lovingly.

"If I ever lost him again," He heard the man choke out as he walked towards the other stretcher. Snape felt his eyes prickling and he hastily looked away, _what the fuck is wrong with me?_

He himself also looked over at the teen's pale, thin and battered form. It was half emaciated and Snape could not stare away. He looked with a stare that could not be deciphered by anyone except for Snape and the teen he could not tear his eyes away.

Snape noticed Remus sauntering right beside the boy's stretcher. He looked so stricken with worry and now relief, his skin was paler then it went on full moons. He clutched Harry's unresponsive frail hand gently, small droplets falling from his caring eyes.

Snape found himself entirely moved for a completely non existent reason so he looked away over the far hills. He didn't want this little niggling feeling, he didn't want this feeling of _care_ for Harry damn Potter.

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Snape woke up and looked around at the sight of the infirmary. He realized he must have fallen asleep on the way back and kicked himself inwardly; how embarrassing.

Beside his bed was a curtained one which he assumed was Potter's. He pulled back his sheets and found with dignity that he still wore his own robes, but they had been through a cleaning charm obviously. He hissed when he met the cold floor with his feet but walked stealthily around the screened area.

He sighed with relief to see that his student at least looked a little bit better. His arm was in a sling, all cuts cleaned and stitched, though bruises still marred Potter's skin.

The teen's face looked more peacefully and by the gentle rise and fall of the boy's chest he could tell that the boy was merely resting. He noticed that Remus sat beside the bed with an open book lay abandoned on his lap; he had fallen asleep by the looks of it.

Earlier he had heard the pitiful conversation between Remus and Madame Pomfrey about the welts on the boy's back.

"_Poppy, are you sure you cannot reduce the scarring?" Remus's plaintive, pleading voice could be heard from behind the screens. Two silhouetted forms shifted also behind the screens._

_The left hand side one, the female replied sympathetically, "I'm sorry Remus, but they inflicted quite deep welts with the curse. There will be some scarring; I will try to make it as subtle as possible,"_

_Remus sighed and Snape could see as the man ran a hand over his face roughly, "I don't know if Harry will be able to handle this. He's marked already enough as it is."_

_Pomfrey's silhouette shifted out of view while Remus's moved over near Harry. Snape watched as he saw the shadow bend down and kissed Harry's forehead, he looked away at the gesture of affection._

Snape wordlessly left the screen of area before making his bed with a flick of his wand and leaving the infirmary. He planned to go into a potion making frenzy to calm himself; he couldn't understand these foreign emotions at all.

A little while later when Remus was relaxing in a chair by Harry's bed, he noticed a vivid green colour in the corner of his eye. He turned to look at it and found Harry's wide, but tired looking eyes staring at him.

_Someone told me not to cry._

He smiled, half in relief, half in happiness and stood up, stepping closer. Harry tried to smile back but it came out as more of a wince. Remus helped the boy in his weakened state to sit up, using the soft pillows as a back rest.

Harry thanked him silently then looked down at his hands to fiddle with them. Remus looked at them then pulled them into his own hands. Harry flinched, but the man did not let go.

He blushed and looked away, not sure what to do or say. To be truthful Harry felt _hollow_.

It was indescribable the way he felt; he had never felt so empty in his life. Even when Sirius had died, he had felt shallow but not purely as empty as he did now. Right now he would do anything to be able to just burst into tears right there and then.

But he couldn't and wouldn't, his eyes were dry to the bone.

He couldn't comprehend what had happened at the top of the mountain; but all he knew was that it took away his will to feel or talk. His will to live.

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_You go backwards and then you go forwards again  
You go backwards again you go  
Creating then drilled and invading  
If somebody made it someone will mess it up  
And you you are not wrong to  
Ask who does this belong to  
It belongs to all of us-Twisted Logic, Coldplay._

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"Fuck Mione, he's gone again. Remus told me how much Harry was getting better and now…look at him," Ron's voice hardly echoed down the long hall of the infirmary. He and Hermione stood looking through the crack of the half opened door.

He wasn't talking about Harry's physical injuries, Hermione knew this. Ron was talking about the way Harry was angry and frustrated after Sirius's death, but he had shown signs of healing.

That was until now. He had that dead look in his eyes, he was pale and withdrawn. The screens around him shield him like a little kid from the scary monsters in the closet.

Dumbledore had floo called them while they were on their separate holidays. As soon as the search commenced they had been pacing the Gryffindor common room. They had been permitted to greet their friend with the rescue party on the banks of the stream.

But Harry had been to incoherent to wake up let alone notice them.

He looked so childish there; Ron and Hermione cannot take their eyes away. They gasp when their best friend turns to the door and looks right at them, his vivid emerald orbs piercing them.

"I can't do this anymore." He whispers then looks away and closes his eyes. He is not sleeping, they know it. They are far too shocked to move, to say anything or look away.

"_I can't do this anymore." Harry's whisper echoed off the Hogwarts Express cabin windows and Hermione and Ron looked sharply at him. They laid a gentle hand on each shoulder, "Harry-"_

"_No." His whisper was faint and his stare continued unseeing out the window. His breath ghosting his parted lips, fogging the window. _

_Ron slipped of his seat and kneeled in front of his best mate, a serious look plastered upon his face, "Please Harry, I know it's hard. I know you loved Si-"_

"_NO!" Harry's voice rose louder and he stiffened, he let out another breath then slumped back against the seat. Ron closed his mouth, the sentence dying as Harry's eyes died with it._

_Hermione and he shared a reproachful look, they had lost him. Or rather, Harry had been lost._

They shared a look after a moment and they both gasped when they noticed a tall, black attired man behind them.

"Professor Snape!" Hermione exclaimed and shrunk back away from the doorway with Ron, the older man look strange, livid but in a gentle way. He passed them in silence then shut the door with a snap. Ron and Hermione stared at the door then each other, they had no idea what had just happened.

They turned away reluctantly and made their way back to the Gryffindor common room to wait.

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Snape bore the room with his obsidian eyes as he shut the infirmary doors behind him. He could clearly see Potter even if screen surrounded him and he stalked decidedly towards the boy.

The boy noticed him approaching him from the corner of his eyes and turned his head. Snape met his gaze with a softened glare, he moved till he stood right in front of Harry.

Harry frowned at his professor and sat up roughly, pulling his pillows behind his back as he winced. Still, the man who saved him, stood there, just staring. Harry stared back then looked away, a flicker of something foreign mirrored in his swirling depths.

Snape looked away and began to speak, "Nearly sixteen years ago, James Potter stole something from me,"

"_Lily, please tell me it's not true," The teen whispered and searched under the curtain of red for her eyes. She looked up, her eyes swimming with unshed tears._

"_It is Severus, it is true. But I cannot forgive you, I cannot. He is not yours anymore, he is James's."_

_She turned and walked away as calmly as she managed, the boy reached out to grab her, whispering, "No, please Lily. Let me apologise, please forgive me! Lily!"_

_She never turned back, leaving the broken seventeen year old boy, his lank hair covering his haunted eyes. He had a son; he had a son that was not his anymore._

Harry's eyes did not widen as Snape expected them to, they remained blank and his face impassive. Snape moved closer, rounding upon the bed until he was towering over Harry.

"He stole _you_."

Harry's faster breathing was the only sign that the teen had heard and understood him. Snape moved even closer and lifted his wand; Harry flinched but did not move otherwise.

Before he incanted the revealing charm he thought he owed the boy an explanation. He lowered his wand but held it limply in his long fingers and started to speak.

But was interrupted quite rudely by Harry's quiet but accusing voice, "You fucked my mother,"

Snape was quite shocked by the venom in the boy's voice but nodded, replying distantly, "Yes _Harry_, I fucked your mother,"

He couldn't do well to call the boy 'Potter' anymore, so he attentively and effectively used the boy's first name; he flinched.

Harry had a haunted look on his face and he looked away. "Sounds more like _you _stole me from '_James',"_

Severus was over him in a flash, clutching the boy's pyjama collar in his white knuckled fists. He leered in Harry's face, so close their noses were nearly touching. Harry didn't even try to pull back he just stared back darkly.

"Be quiet, _Harry_. I expect _my son _to treat his elders with respect, including _his father_," The professor spat then let go of the boy's collar, taking a step back.

Harry looked down for a moment then look up again, locking eyes with the older man, "I will _never _fucking treat you with respect Snape, you fucking bastard. Get away from me,"

Snape turned, if possible so pale that his eyes look haunted; scary and unforgiving. But he merely blinked hard then turned around and stormed out, his robes billowing ever so menacingly.

After he had slammed the doors, he realized he had never gotten round to the revealing charm; it would have revealed the truth behind his words. He kicked himself inwardly; he would corner Pot-Harry later.

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_I wake up, it's a bad dream  
No one on my side  
I was fighting  
But I just feel too tired  
To be fighting  
Guess I'm not the fighting kind  
Wouldn't mind it  
If you were by my side  
But you're long gone  
Yeah you're long gone now-A bad dream, Keane._

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Nearly three months went by, each opportunity surpassed; the reasons being that Snape couldn't do it or Harry avoided him. The boy had recovered good and well, after the Christmas holidays going back to classes.

The boy had put a mask firmly into place, he messed around with Weasley, smiling, laughing; though his smile hardly reaching his soulless eyes.

He only ate when told to and slept only if he could help it. Snape had overheard Weasley and Granger reporting worriedly to McGonagall that the boy woke up screaming and clawing at his scars on his back.

One night after hearing the duo complain for sixth time he followed Minerva up to the sixth year boy's dormitory to observe on these 'nightmares'.

_He shadowed Minerva carefully as they moved closer to the bed and she cast a charm, making the boy's drapes transparent. _

_Minerva seemed uncomfortable in invading the boy's privacy but they both knew this was mandatory as Professors of the teen._

_They stood quietly and watched as the boy lay still, then after a while his mouth was agape and his face contorted. The two frowned in confusion then stepped forth and then they heard it._

_They had passed by the boy's silencing boundaries. Moans of agonised, terrible pain could be heard._

"_No," The boy groaned hoarsely, his mouth wide open and wavering._

"_No," They heard it again and again, getting terrifyingly louder each time. Snape had to keep a restraining arm on Minerva, she looked ready to burst forth and do something._

_Snape himself gritted his teeth and tried to remain impassive at the least. The groans and moans became louder and soon Harry's whole body was convulsing around, trapped in the nightmare of the past._

_These soon turned into screams of unimaginable horror, he stifled a concerned noise in his throat._

_Snape knew exactly what the boy was dreaming about, he watched as the teen scrabbled at his back, his medium length nails inflicting more damage on his scarred back._

_Rivulets of blood soaked the thin white shirt the boy wore and his arms were bent in an odd angle as they attempted and succeeded in scratching whatever itch was aching Harry so much._

_Snape turned to Minerva, seeing her pale in horror and shock. He pulled her backwards out of the silencing boundaries and recast a spell to change the drapes back to normal._

_He himself had seen enough and so had Minerva._

Ever since that horrible night Snape could not stop himself from the urge of following Pot-Har-his son. He knew he would never be able to approach the boy again; the boy would never listen to him.

So he took to silent, non existent encounters with the boy. He knew the boy's schedule like the back of his hand. The boy would eat robotically as the Weasley boy pestered him to eat more while the granger girl looked in silent disapproval.

Afterwards the boy would manage to shake them off with a lame excuse and sauntered to the fifth corridor and sit by the window and stare till curfew.

Harry had an uncertain, glazed look in his eyes. Much so that he looked haunted and half dead. His skin was pale and sickly, his hair lank and dirty. He moved slowly and he breathed shallowly, some might have suspected him as a disguised Inferi.

But Snape knew better, the boy was broken. He was not certain whether Harry would ever be fully fixed, but his torment at the mountain had been too much along with the mounting grief of his Godfather's death.

The way he just stared out the hazy window frightened Snape deep down and with it came a realization.

"_James Potter did not steal him, I lost him."_

The moon was illuminated and shone on the boy's skin and making the dark rings under his eyes stand out starkly. He breathed quietly and huddled almost into himself.

The corridor was silent, this time Harry had managed to stay out past curfew, or simply he didn't care.

The night was dark and the corridors shadowed and silent, scarily silent. Harry sat on the window seat, his parted lips close to the cold glass of the window, his warm breath ghosting it.

His fingers lay idle on his lap, and his legs up proper up protectively like a fortress around its king. He was slumped against the wall and the faraway look in his eyes look anguished; distressed; too haunted for a fifteen year old.

Snape approached quietly, his steps pressing into the ground so softly he could hear his own heartbeat. He carefully pulled his wand from his sleeve and inconspicuously pointed it at the boy and whispered, "_Finite Revealo."_

He stared for a moment and when nothing happened he nearly pounded his foot in frustration. That spell was the strongest revealing spell in the whole of Wizarding world history and would even undo Lily's brilliant charm work.

But still Potter's appearance did not change in the slightest.

That's when Snape felt his stomach fall into a pit of doom, dread and disappointment spread through his veins. Lily had been wrong; Harry was truly James Potter's son, not his.

He felt prickling in his eyes and he looked away, bowing his head so curtains of hair fell across his face.

This wonderful boy, who needed healing, was not his.

His heart shrunk back into the cold depths and conclaves of his chest and he pulled out his wand again, whispering devastatingly, _"Obliviate!" _The boy's eyes went dull then continued staring out the window.

His memory stolen from him since that night in the infirmary.

He had been utterly and completely, wrong.

Harry was not his and never had been.

Severus Snape felt a sadness run through him that enclosed his shrunken heart once again.

He did not care.

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_Are you out of your mind?  
You dug yourself into a liar's hole  
You made a little spark to live inside  
It's now a fucking fire out of control  
And when the morning comes you'll act surprised-It hurts, Angels and Airwaves._

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"_Lily? Can I see him?" The teen's timid voice echoed the hall of the infirmary. The redhead's eyelids fluttered open, revealing very bright but weary looking emerald eyes._

_She breathed out a deep breath and uttered one devastating word, "No."_

_She looked away and never met his eyes. A lone tear rolled down his pale face before he turned and left._

A year had passed; Harry Potter was now seventeen, vibrant and full of energy at times; but when alone, sunken and swallowed in depression. No one saw him like this and he had fallen so far he had brought himself not to care.

It was his final year and he spent as much time alone as he did with his friends. Still, it seemed, they did not notice and for that sometimes Harry hated them.

He was still haunted by nightmares everyday. He could never shake the feeling a sickly sharp dagger piercing the skin in his forearm or the feel of the whip lashing the deep wounds in his back.

Harry often look at his back in the bathroom mirror, the door locked and silencing charms, all the showers running full power. None of the boys heard his anguished weeping, or saw his silent tears.

They never saw the nearly grown up man huddled under the cold water, crashing into his back, holding his knees. Never saw the seventeen year old tracing the large bumps on his defaced back; crying as his fingertips felt the scars and remembered the pain.

They never saw how he tossed and turned at night, so tightly strangled in his sheets that he could hardly breathe. But that was the only way to stop the pain and only Harry knew it.

As he looked in the mirror each night, all the showers running loudly he noticed his hair was no longer wild and messy, but slick and hung down in curtains. His nose was more pronounced and hooked; it reminded him of the man who had saved him.

The man he tried to forget, he still hated them man, despised him even if he had saved him, the man who had changed everything.

Deep inside he wished that Snape had never saved him; he would have rather died then lived in the torment of the past that he called his life.

He couldn't understand why on earth he was beginning to look subtly like Severus Snape. He wondered every single night as he huddled away in the shower stall, crying.

He would never know.

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_So taking you with me would be like  
Taking all your money to the grave  
It does no good to anyone especially  
The one you're trying to save  
But it's so hard not to save_

When you need a friend  
You could count on anyone  
But you know I'll defend   
The tragedy that we knew as  
_**The end**__-Tragedy, Brandi Carlile._

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**Thankyou for reading my story, I hope you've enjoyed it as I have enjoyed writing it.**

**Please kindly take the time to review, I'd really appreciate that.**

**Thankyou,**

**Yun.**

**19****th**** May, 2007. **

If you would like the play list for this story, please email me using the one at the bottom of my profile page.


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